


The Trident

by Angelic_Temptress



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Awkward Conversations, F/M, Gen, One Shot, Post-Canon, Post-season 7, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 17:12:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15733845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelic_Temptress/pseuds/Angelic_Temptress
Summary: Warrior girl talk.





	The Trident

“The last time I was here, I played near the water, searching for Rhaegar’s rubies.” Arya Stark’s large, stormy eyes reflected the flames of their small campfire. She sat with her arms hugging her knees, more a child than Brienne had ever seen her. Having lost so many in the past few weeks weighed heavily on the girl’s small shoulders. She and Sansa were now the last of the Stark name, their crippled brother perished in the fires of Winterfell.

“I’ve crossed the Trident more times than I can count now, searching for you and your sister, serving you and your sister. Serving your mother.” Brienne sighed and rubbed her hands, hoping to warm them. Any bluer and they would match the color of her armor. “Ser Jaime and I dueled upon the bridge just behind you.”

The girl glanced to the bridge and then back to Brienne. Her eyes sparkled. “Who won?”

“I did, naturally.”

They both laughed. It felt good to laugh.

“You care for him.” It was not a question.

Brienne’s hand unconsciously moved to Oathkeeper so her fingers could trace the lion’s head pommel. “He is not who he was.”

“I hear our pasts help shape who we are.” She paused. “My wolf bit Joffrey not far from here, and though I scared her away so she wouldn’t be punished, King Robert ordered Sansa’s wolf be executed instead. My friend was murdered by the Hound because he was a butcher’s son instead of a lord’s.” The girl’s retelling rolled off of her tongue, as if the happenings meant nothing.

The Riverlands had drunk so much blood since Robert Baratheon had first rebelled against the Targaryen crown. Brienne wondered if keener noses could still smell the copper. “Not a day’s ride from here, Ser Jaime lost his hand protecting my honor.”

Arya’s lip twitched, almost a smile. “Does he know?”

“Know?”

“That you love him?”

Brienne’s breath caught in her throat.

Arya did not await a response. “Stories of romance were Sansa’s favorites. The conquests of Aegon’s sisters and of Nymeria interested me more than their suitors and favors.” She reciprocated Brienne’s widening smile. The two had much in common. “Because we are warriors, Brienne, we are able to recognize a man’s motives, especially when presented for all to see.”

Sly, perceptive Arya Stark had kept to the walls of Winterfell, had always stood just beyond her sister’s shoulder, and had watched. Since her return from wherever she’d learned her skills, they were all she used. Perhaps the little Stark knew them all better than she let on.

Before Brienne could counter, Lady Sansa emerged from her tent to join them by the fire. She sat beside her sister, so close their shoulders touched. “And what is it my lady swords speak of so late on this winter’s eve?”

“Why, suitors of course.”

Sansa’s jaw dropped slightly, surprised, and she looked at Brienne. “You speak of Ser Jaime?”

“I’m beginning to suspect you two have broached this topic before,” she said as her cheeks reddened with embarrassment.  

After tightening her cloak about her shoulders, Sansa playfully shrugged. “Please correct us if our suspicions are inaccurate, my lady. I would hate to assume Ser Jaime holds your affections when in fact it is Tormund Giantsbane.”

Brienne gaped at the brazen Stark girls, hardened yet still young and laughing despite it. Was it _hope_ that tickled the corners of their mouths and sparked the glint to their eyes? Or was it the need to truly survive with their humanity in tact? As their sworn protector, she could only infer Lady Catelyn’s daughters had nearly lost themselves to either misery or vengeance during their respective journeys home.

Perhaps humoring them was another way to serve. “I was unaware of my feelings. Cersei, of course, knew as soon as she set her cruel eyes upon me.”

Lady Sansa nodded, understanding. “That wretched woman thought your goodness a threat.”

“And she was right,” Arya added.

A moment passed. Brienne did not know how to end the conversation.

Sansa finished it for her. “Not all secrets are meant to be kept, Lady Brienne.”

++


End file.
